


If You Wake Up Again, Don't Let Go

by chantipede



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: 3rd chapter is a 1k epilogue, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Back and forth time skips, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff for Angst, High School to College, Homophobia, Hospitals, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, its both, literally boy is just floating around in space, mild panic attack, plot heavy, sehyoon has galaxy brain, the perspective is switchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantipede/pseuds/chantipede
Summary: In all the stars fallen, fingers unclenched, words unspoken, and stories unfinished, Sehyoon grasps the present with hope, as it's the only gift he can have.
Relationships: Kang Yuchan | Chan/Kim Sehyoon | Wow
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did i write more angst i can never read angst this is big sad :(

Sehyoon’s eyes fixate on the closed pair of another’s as he thumbs the shallow hills of cheeks once spilled onto over and over. He almost wishes he could feel that wetness now, but even his own gaze, usually pinched by a smile, is long drained, and instead, glazed over by a mask of apathy. Maybe it’s the tiredness that creeps up from his eye-bags to the wrinkle between his brows that gives him that half-beaten look. Funny, he’d rather be fully beaten than here. Not ‘here’ physically—physically he can barely handle a second out of this building, even though he’ll have to leave soon—but ‘here’ situationally.

How did he end up here?

His fingers skim through bleached locks that resemble outside’s weather as much as the head underneath it: pale, dry, and so still, holding onto a last slither of life. Pushing it out of the way, he thinks back to the first kiss, or rather, the first few, as awkwardly as first kisses can go.

It was in their old high school’s bathroom, as there were hardly any other places to keep secret. He remembers the other combing back his bangs when they were overgrown and covering his eyes all the time.

* * *

“Sehyoon,” Yuchan feels his own shyness losing to overwhelming excitement. “Have you kissed anyone before?”

The aforementioned melts into a powerful blush. “No! When would I even… have the opportunity…” He hits Yuchan on the shoulder accusingly. “What, have you?”

“In seventh grade I kissed the prettiest girl in class.”

Sehyoon coughs out a laugh. “Oh my God why would you-“

“Peer pressure,” Yuchan interrupts. “Or… not really. One of my friends called me gay. The girl slapped me in the face though.” He tries to tickle away Sehyoon’s sympathetic frown, only to learn that the boy is completely immune and unimpressed.

“Yuchan! I’ll slap _you_ in the face!”

Unthreatened, Yuchan corners him against the sink and presses a few pecks to his cheeks until he gives in.

Sehyoon’s first kiss is kind of uncomfortable and oddly wet, but far from awkward. It’s kind of funny, like Yuchan. Everything is funny to Yuchan.

“What if someone sees us?”

“I didn’t take you to the least romantic place in the world to get caught by some homophobe during last period class.”

Yuchan’s eyes have a mischievous twinkle that Sehyoon knows is just hiding embarrassment. It’s always about hiding embarrassment with these two, between giggles and banter and hacks to the chest. However, this moment is a complete U-turn from that, like a break to shut them both up, and Sehyoon just wants to capture that twinkle and lock it up in the night skies of his mind.

Yuchan leans in again, his hand finding purchase on the curve of Sehyoon’s back, and gives him a second kiss that’s ten times slower and a hundred times sweeter. Yuchan knows it was in fact quite difficult to be gay and under the microscope of friends, teachers, and even parents that might not give punishment a second thought. _But I wouldn’t mind the ridicule if it were with you._

Sehyoon has taken over by the end of it, and Yuchan can’t help but look up in awe at his overtaken confidence. “You’re cute.”

“I want a refund,” and Sehyoon is shoving the boy out of the washroom door.

* * *

Sehyoon’s thoughts are interrupted by the twitch of a colder hand in his, accompanied by the increased pace of the heart monitor beside them. He represses the jump of his own breath as the body next to him, tangled in wires and sleep, shifts for the first time in four days. Or was it five?

A dried out voice produces something feigning the sound of his name and he gently clasps his partner’s hand to his heart.

“I’m right here.”

Soothingly, he brushes more hair from the other’s eyes as they adjust to the hospital room’s light.

“Yuchan.”

A grumbled sigh leaves ghostly chapped lips, and Sehyoon winces at Yuchan’s pain like it’s his own.

“Hyung…” It’s both soft and rough, like brittle ice. Sehyoon knows Yuchan wishes he could talk more, to ask what day it is and if he’s eaten, but he can barely get passed processing the thought. With some effort, his hand reaches up to wipe a tear that Sehyoon hasn't realized he‘s let out. Yuchan is still his battery, and maybe he no longer feels too tired to cry a little. He whispers his intentions, even though they’ve never really changed. _I love you._

The nurses will be here before he knows it, but if it’s close to their last moment together he wants it to himself. Even if the soundtrack of their love story is hospital monitors and hushed affections and breaths stolen by pain rather than kisses, he wants it to be with Yuchan.

* * *

From Sehyoon’s inattentive position on the frameless mattress, he hears his door open, followed by the creak of a wooden floorboard and a body making itself at home across his back. The weight of it is perpendicular to his own and comfortably warm, though he makes a rebellious act to flinch.

“What are you drawing?”

He already made assumptions on the voice’s identity from the call downstairs moments ago by his mother, informing the guest’s arrival. Still, he makes an effort to shield his sketchbook like he’s even allowed to be ashamed of it. The latter wants to remind him that he isn’t, or maybe it’s curiosity that causes arms to fold over Sehyoon in a tackle, and he barely recalls when the younger surpassed his height. Despite the fact, Sehyoon is much stronger, and pushes the offender off his back, watching an assortment of long limbs tumble off the bed, cheap markers following suit.

Yuchan is so loud and so exaggerated, he disturbs the last remnants of peace in the air.

“Hey!”

Sehyoon is giggling and leaning over his elbows, watching Yuchan scramble to his knees and fight a blush at the sound. Sehyoon’s laugh is always so soft and never forced, unlike his own, and he makes it his mission to keep it that way. It always amazes Yuchan how someone so awkward and closed off could turn out to be so free in the vastness of his mind. Yuchan thinks there’s no measure to how far one could travel through it, but as years pass he can catch another leak from it every day, and it springs a blossom of joy through him. He will never not be curious of what Sehyoon is thinking, and never under-appreciate how Sehyoon keeps so level-headed in the midst of it all.

Yuchan plays with Sehyoon’s hands and sings out a song that he heard on the radio, changing the lyrics as he goes.

“You’re the zebra in my lion king movie,

You’re the stripes on my back when I’m groovy,

Won’t you give your book to me? Give it all~

I just wanna see.”

Sehyoon is giggling so much his fingers give in, and Yuchan is awarded with access, the page still turned to what he was working on. He admires the mess of a portrait, colours outlining where edges would end, and ugliness made beautiful by the style. Sehyoon’s mind takes him all over the place, but when he’s nose deep in his sketchbook, it guides his hands instead, and Yuchan admires how the limited pages are the only visual way to capture the essence of it. Even on paper, it’s not meant to be understood, but freed and expressed.

Sehyoon doesn’t tell Yuchan that the portrait is of him.

* * *

“Ah, you’re here, perfect. I’d like to speak with you.”

Sehyoon tries not to look defeated as he walks out of Yuchan’s room at the summoning of a doctor. It’s not the first time he’s seen her, but his mind is too fatigued to swarm with whatever kind of news or instructions she might have.

The halls of the hospital are deafeningly quiet, save for the beeping of all kinds of monitors from the long stretch of rooms. The stench of over-sanitation and squeaked floors upsets his stomach, like they’re trying to hide tragedy with bleach. He passes a hallway that visitors are not allowed into, where they’ll probably take Yuchan later. The aura around it seems to pull you in like a trap that you don’t know you’ll be able to escape.

They step into an office at the other end of the floor. The doctor’s walls are decorated in framed degrees, a PhD, and other papers of the like. A surgeon.

“Any questions before we begin?” she says, taking a seat in the comfort of her rolling chair. “You seem tired, are you sleeping enough?”

“Enough,” is all he says. He’s polite, but honestly just wants her to beat around the bush. Producing full sentences requires so much thinking, and Sehyoon doesn’t want to think about anything right now.

She twirls a pen that she’s probably holding for no reason, and it reminds him of Yuchan’s own habit. Trying to appear more presentable (and less tired), he pushes the thought away.

“I’ll start with the bad news. Mr. Kang is really trying his best out there, fighting the fight, he’s very strong-minded but…” Sehyoon doesn’t want to look at her already, “his case was hard to begin with. I’m sorry Mr. Kim. However.” She puts her pen down and rotates her computer screen into Sehyoon’s view. “We're not entirely out of options. Your match results are in.”

Without really being able to process what’s on the screen, he looks at it, intaking what she’s about to say next.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this procedure?”

He’s filled with something. Hope? A second chance?

She continues, “We’ll have to go through more stuff to fill out and the all the steps, not to mention a team meeting...”

Maybe Yuchan wouldn’t want him to miss this much school, but he’s already decided. “I want it.”

She shrinks further behind her desk, and pauses. Her mouth hangs slightly open like she’s trying to fill the spaces where Sehyoon’s reasoning may have run thin. “I want to contact his family first.”

Sehyoon almost jumps at the mention of them, but she completes the thought.

“Not for permission, he’s old enough and still… responsive… for consent.” She urges Sehyoon to look her dead in the eye and understand her intentions. “They were more likely a match to begin with, Mr. Kim.”

Hyperaware of the roar of the air-conditioning like the impossible determination in his mind, he wills himself forward. “Yuchan wouldn’t want that.”

“I can ask him that.”

He tenses his whole body, and she gives him a look of understanding to contrast her assertiveness.

“I was going to require his consent on all this anyway.”

There’s no way Sehyoon could let that happen. Yuchan is in too dire of a condition to have to worry about him. He thinks of his partner, his entire world wrapped up in blankets of impossible exhaustion, back perked up so the nurses could feed him water as he gave Sehyoon an unreadable look as he walked out of the room moments ago. He thinks Yuchan wanted to lift his head, wish Sehyoon a better life, or maybe apologize. Yuchan is everything good in the world, and Sehyoon never wants him feeling so sorry and worthless at the mercy of himself.

He thinks of Yuchan’s family, so kind but unforgiving, so warm but relentless, and thinks back to the day he had to see it all unfold.

* * *

In a maze of farewells, Sehyoon steps out of dance practice about to confront the blockade of messages on his phone when he faces a teenager grasping his bike, covered in a sheen of sweat and what Sehyoon suspects were once tears.

When Yuchan makes no move for words or even eye-contact, Sehyoon walks forward with the clicking of the bike’s wheels trailing beside him. He feels worry bottling quickly in his stomach and just follows the shape of the building. He won’t stop staring at Yuchan, feeling his heart fall with every heave the other makes. Sehyoon assumes he’d arrived only moments before, and an idea lingers up his spine on why.

The rear of the dance studio faces fenced off trees, and as Yuchan leans his bike against the weaved wires, Sehyoon takes him into a hug.

The night before, Yuchan had messaged him in panic about a polaroid he found in his parents’ room. Yuchan assumes his brother had been snooping through his wallet and that’s why they found it in the open, because him and Sehyoon are very careful of their relationship. Maybe not careful enough. Maybe they shouldn’t have taken photo evidence of themselves to begin with.

Either way, Sehyoon is feeling like he should’ve skipped Saturday morning practice.

They end up hunched forward on the grass as Sehyoon tries to coax Yuchan’s breathing. Yuchan wants to scream and cry and explode all at once, but everything is getting caught in his throat, suffocating his lungs and blackening his vision. His palms shake in the grasp of the other’s, and Sehyoon can only do so much to hold Yuchan down to the earth. Whines and pleas escape Yuchan’s mouth without realizing, like a prayer of tongues to escape his own mind. The whole world shakes, almost literally, and he doesn’t want to say goodbye to everything he knows. He realizes he never knew the consequences of anything—of growing up, of loving Sehyoon, of making it this far—everything was based off a whim that they could escape the confines of their town and their parents, and he wants to regret, to break up, to forget that he’s gay and forget that all of this ever happened.

As soon as the words can come back to him, he tries, “I’m sorry.”

Sehyoon is shaking his head and he falls into Yuchan’s embrace. “Nothing was ever your fault.”

“My parents will probably call yours.”

Sehyoon doesn’t know what that would mean for them. He doesn’t care.

Tears, as they are now able to fall, soak into Sehyoon’s t-shirt.

 _We should break up_ , Yuchan wants to say. _I can still try with them. Go home while you can._

“Seh-“

“I love you,” Sehyoon declares. “I don’t know what will happen, but I don’t want to do any of itwithout you.”

Yuchan’s worries are building and shattering in his mind like glass, the shards piercing holes into his gut. It’s faint, but Sehyoon’s words echo in his ears along with the beating of his heart, bringing it back down. His shaking has changed from a shivering fear to released sobs. Tears spill quickly and Sehyoon squeezes him tighter. He’s able to quiet down and just hug Sehyoon for real; hug him because he loves him, because he trusts every word and every moment they’ve ever shared. Sehyoon rubs his back until there’s nothing else but the two of them breathing and existing in this world.

After Sehyoon pulls Yuchan to his feet, he jumps the fence, and Yuchan doesn’t spare a second to consider the bicycle he’s leaving behind.

Sehyoon doesn’t receive it at the time, but in that moment he gets a message from his mother saying he can bring Yuchan home for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be the sehntipede to my chantipede o_o


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oneshot, twoshot,  
> i'm dead, who shot?  
> (trust no one, not even yourself: an angst fanfiction)
> 
> also to note, their ages are one (and a half) years apart... bc they r so young... yeah.  
> thanks and enjoy if you can! it's more hectic this time around.

As Yuchan skips his way through his aunt’s orchard, he forks his path to follow a jagged detour of pebbles. It’s not his most graceful frolic, as the thick mud clings to his boots and lands spots on the white of his socks. As an eight-year-old boy in Jeju, this doesn’t usually occur to him, but this evening his aunt had delayed his plans of discovering a rain fairy at the end of the pebble road.

You see, he’d come here three times before. The first was on a whim of being caught up in a game of hide and seek. He wasn’t hiding from anyone in particular of course; the game relies on the strategy of his hiding spots, even though his favourite job is looking for his friends. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have any at his weekends on the orchard, so his best bet is entertaining himself by discovering everything there is to discover on the stretch of his aunt’s land.

That day, he followed the pebbles because they granted him direction for his way back, and came across an abandoned wagon in the opening, which he’d found out upon a later inquiry wasn’t his aunt’s. On it was an array of tiny mushrooms and sticks, likely collected from the forest, neatly assorted in rows above the drawings etched into the wood. He couldn’t make out what they represented and assumed they were something like the _hieroglyphs_ he read about in social-studies. He didn’t linger for long in fear of disturbing whatever lived there, but his curiosity would soon lead him back.

His third visit was on a rainy day, and afterward, he received scolding for the mess all over his jeans, but more importantly, the composition of the place had been totally different. The wagon was toppled over like someone had taken shelter underneath, and the walls were lined in beautiful impressions of clouds and rainbows, this time made from black ink that could have been sharpie as much as they could have been magic. He stayed there a bit and gathered a handful of mushrooms as a peace offering after adding to the walls, _are you the fairy of the rain?_

He hopes to at least meet an answer this time, if not the magical being themselves, as he had departed too late to catch the downpour as per his aunt’s orders. She was also concerned about his _dysmotility_ , as the doctor had called it, and was worried he hadn’t fully recovered from his last episode, but he feels fine. He doesn’t like to think about that. He wants to pretend he is a frog, going to serve the fairest of the rain fairies with his fellow frog courtiers. _Oh noble bringer of tempestuous days, storm me with your presence!_

Yuchan, or rather, his frog nobleman, is met with the wavering shriek of none other than—well, maybe not a fairy—but a lonesome boy, no more than a year or two older than himself.

A boy with worse of a balance than his taste for frogs.

Yuchan reaches out to grab the stranger’s hand and instead feels it tug his vision.

The boy, the frogs, the whole island seems to drop bellow him, and he’s met with nothing but darkness.

“Sehyoon!”

_I’m right here._

As much as he tries, his attempts to look around are fruitless. His vision is pierced too rapidly by light as he attempts to open his eyes, but even that takes up too much energy.

_Yuchan._

He’s afraid, and so _cold_. He groans out with all the power he can summon as he feels an ache consume him.

A familiar feeling runs through his hair. Sehyoon is here. He’s pushing Yuchan’s bangs back. He’s holding his hand.

“Hyung...”

His eyes are open, but it’s too bright. How long has he been here?

He has no more power to speak, to hold back Sehyoon’s hand, to figure out where he is, but it doesn’t matter. Sehyoon is with him.

“I love you,” Yuchan hears, just quietly enough that it doesn’t hurt and loudly enough to understand. It’s calming him down, and he can only look in the direction of the voice, eyes numb to the pain. He can make out a faint silhouette like a protective shadow cast over him. It allows him to feel aware of his breathing, the ringing in his ears, and the passage of time.

He’s in the hospital. He’s been bedridden for… a month? Two? He wants to ask, but he’s already being soothed out of the question.

He feels his figure being hoisted up and slowly, Sehyoon’s hand slips from his fingers. He can barely follow the shadow as it exits the room, and he wishes he weren't too exhausted to call out.

_Don’t leave me._

Please stay.

_I’m tired._

Thank you so much. I love you.

And Sehyoon is gone.

* * *

Since Sehyoon is a year older, he starts college soon after, and they’re able to get a single-room apartment with the help of his mother and some government money (high school students with no parental support can ask for a few pennies). Yuchan doesn’t mind a new high school. He’s good at making friends, and there’s queer people in the city.

Still, living a plane ride from home in with scrap money and limited adulting experience is hard. There are days when Yuchan is too messy, Sehyoon isn’t careful enough, and the food just goes bad. Yuchan works weekends and Sehyoon sells art, but not affording wifi kind of sucks, so they live in libraries, food courts, and parks, where they’re meant to move around, and they barely find time together anymore.

And, it’s not that Sehyoon doesn’t trust Yuchan, he’s always had a crazy social life and Sehyoon wouldn’t get overprotective. He’s just always tired when he gets home. The Yuchan that bounces off the walls usually looks sad when he’s out of energy, but this is excessive.

Maybe he deserves to be. Maybe adjusting to the independent life and never knowing if his family will apologize at such a tender age is exhausting him, depressing him even. Still, Sehyoon doesn’t know any of Yuchan’s new friends, and he won’t seem to spill anything at night.

On a day based off this instinct, Sehyoon decides to devote some study time together in the library. Really, he’s skipping class to catch Yuchan studying during daylight hours when he’s not too tired for much more than idle chat.

When Yuchan snaps his head back and represses a shriek at the realization of his presence, Sehyoon realizes he is mistaken for seeking conversation in a noise-free environment, but he perseveres.

He sets up his laptop to review the lecture he’s about to miss, and curses himself at how he’s never really been one to detect an underlying problem. Yuchan came out to him first, confessed to him first, took the first kiss and the first hit in the imprisonment of their high school. Sehyoon is open-minded and careful, but he needs situations to be spelled out for him sometimes.

He shifts in his seat and pokes his foot at Yuchan’s leg until the younger eyes him with an exaggerated ‘ _What do you want?’_ look.

Sighing, Sehyoon doesn’t know what he wants, and like a thought jabbing at his brain, he kicks Yuchan’s knee.

The yelp of pain that rips through the library earns a few dozen hushes and Sehyoon wants to drop dead. _Wrong knee, genius_.

Honestly, he’d drag his boyfriend out of the building if he weren’t worried that he’d just caused a painful injury and possibly a reversed surgical correction.

Clasping his poor knee for dear life, Yuchan whisper-shouts, “ _What_?”

Sehyoon wills himself to put together a question that he hasn't prepared any words for.“What’s wrong with you?”

“What? What’s wrong with _you_?”

Sehyoon is trying not to be angry at himself. He shifts in his spot, not having predicted that he would just cut to the chase, which really isn’t going well for him.

“Kang Yuchan, I know something’s up, so just _tell_ me!”

Yuchan would consider the question through his pain if it weren’t so full of utter _nonsense_. He wants to laugh. “Are you _accusing_ me?”

“Yes!”

Their aggressive hushed whispering is earning unwanted looks. Yuchan looks like he wants to hit his stupid boyfriend.

“I-I don’t know what you’re hiding, but you need to tell me. If not now, then later, when we get out of here, when we get home, I don’t care.” Sehyoon is only struggling because he hates to see Yuchan like this. He’s done with the forced laughs, the brushed off questions, the tired eyes of dread. It’s making him so frustrated, and he didn’t even realize.

“I don’t know what you want.” Yuchan grabs his books and slides on his bag, and as he walks past Sehyoon, he grabs Yuchan’s arm as an act of desperation. _Please don’t leave._

But Yuchan pulls away and he’s forced to let go.

Sehyoon is filled with guilt, like he hadn't realize anything until this moment, and he’s sorry he didn’t bring anything up sooner. He’d been so blind, so foolish to Yuchan’s antics and forced smiles, that he ignored them in his own tiredness. When he wasn't given any answers, his anxiety is made to complete all of his questions with the worst.

The first night Yuchan doesn’t come home, Sehyoon can’t do much else than call an unresponsive cell. He’s worried sick, and can only curl into himself during the sleepless hours of the night. He’s so angry at himself that he can’t even wry out the tears that Yuchan deserves.

In the morning, he’s able to contact two of Yuchan’s friends to no avail, and his own friends tell him to wait until tonight. Maybe Yuchan was angry enough to book a hotel or crash at a friend’s, as he has too many to count for Sehyoon to be sure. However, Yuchan wouldn’t keep his phone dead this long... unless Sehyoon was blocked. Would Yuchan block him after that? Sehyoon is desperate and tired of trying to answer his own questions. The two of them are too independent, too detached from their families and too anchored to only each other. It’s stupid how they aren’t actually family, and if something were to happen to either of them, the other might have no way of knowing. Sehyoon blames himself for taking too many chances. He deserves to worry, and Yuchan deserves to hurt him.

It’s in the second morning that he’s able to bring out tears. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Why when it was too late, when Yuchan was already done with him. In his half-asleep state, he can see fifteen-year-old Yuchan bringing up a break-up. Their love felt so refreshing and right, but so new. It was an unknown territory that they might’ve been too young to face. He thinks after this that maybe Yuchan was right. It was for all this that Yuchan had to leave the safety of his home to go to another school, another island. It was for Sehyoon that he shook his entire family when neither of them were ready, and now he could barely contact his brothers, not to mention his broken-hearted mother. They’ve had to live off small loans, grants, and side-jobs when Yuchan hadn’t even graduated, and they’re so young and vulnerable at the mercy of a whole city. Sehyoon doesn’t feel like he’s worth any of that. Yuchan is a bright spirit that should serve his dreams and study for his passions, notwork himself to death over weekends and eat canned vegetables in a crammed apartment with an unworthy boyfriend.

He feels like he will never make it up to Yuchan, and falls asleep to his own pathetic sobs.

He gets a few hours until the home phone rings up his immediate attention.

“Kim Sehyoon?”

He’s too easily rattled out of his sleep by worry. “Speaking?”

The stranger’s voice continues carefully. “And you’re Kang Yuchan’s… roommate?”

He hesitates. “I’m his partner.”

“I see,” they pause. “My name is Doctor Seo. Your, ah… Mr. Kang is in the hospital _.”_

“Where? What happened?” with a hint about Yuchan’s state, he breathes with a new panic.

“Caregrove Institute. He’s unconscious, but I suggest you come immediately. It’s most likely in his best wishes.”

Unconscious? His best wishes? Sehyoon doesn’t want to assume what that means.

He leaves as soon as he hangs up and rushes out of the apartment with bear minimum. He knows the way, but he has to take a _bus_ to the hospital. He has to board the vehicle with a forced smile and sit amongst strangers for almost _an hour,_ with nothing but his long-blown fuse and intrusive thoughts to occupy his time, and he prays to God that an hour is enough for Yuchan to-

to…

 _Please wait for me, Kang Yuchan_.

It’s easily the longest hour of Sehyoon’s life.

* * *

Kang Yuchan is feeling kind of shitty, and not just because of his physical state.

Actually, his physical state is kind of bearable for once.

His eyes tear open to an overwhelming light, but it doesn’t give him a splitting headache this time around. Still, he takes his time to adjust and become aware of his surroundings. He’s half-horizontal in a different hospital room than he remembers. A dim lamp in the corner casts the ceiling in yellow, and he can gradually make out the patterned spots that adorn it, which he likes to pretend are hospital stars. A maze of wires connect his body to the machines on his sides, which he can sense somewhere in the corners of his eyes. It makes him feel like Yuchan Spaghetti. Or Yuchan the Robot, except, dysfunctional, like an old laptop that needs to be plugged in all the time.

He’s used to waking up from his daze with a hand around his, and he’s a bit disappointed that Sehyoon’s presence it’s not amongst today’s discoveries.

Kim Sehyoon. The boy who never stopped giving, and who Yuchan never stopped hurting.

It’s so foolish how that all works. Sehyoon’s never-ending trust in him gave him a safe space and a home, and all Yuchan ever did was break it.

He assumes Sehyoon knows by now, about his illness that he’d locked away from their lives so desperately. The doctors probably told Sehyoon months ago, and he had to piece together himself how his boyfriend had hospitalized himself in a futile attempt to save some money. Not totally unsuccessful, but his life had gone into shambles anyway at a failure to hide how he was so tired and in pain from not seeing the doctor since they moved in.

Dumb move. Yuchan wonders who’s paying for everything now. He wonders if Sehyoon can afford rent, or sleep with the heartsickness of living by himself. Yuchan pictures the desperate hand that he shook off in the library to organize his prolonged confession.

Dumber move. Like, the dumbest in his life. He felt the attack coming but had gotten so used to repressing it. The damage was irreversible now, unless he could magically land a set of organs to replace his own.

Is it selfish that after all this he still asks to spend his last moments with Sehyoon? He remembers his last awakening, how the other whispered to him before walking out of the room, possibly for the last time and wonders how he could be so selfish. Yuchan is nothing but selfish. He’s selfish for lying to Sehyoon, and selfish for wanting his forgiveness. He honestly deserves all the pain he’s ever had. It’s his fault, after all.

Currently, his hand slides over a wound with a different kind of pain than he’s used to. _Stitches_.

He bolts up, only to curse himself for the habit, barely even noting his new ability to accomplish such a movement, and pushes up his gown to discover more stitches than he can even count. Despite seeming well-aged, the punctured skin upsets his stomach, and he smooths his clothes back down in recoil.

A groan somewhere beside him makes him newly aware of a fellow robot in the bed next to him, and it’s a groan he could recognize from anywhere.

He ignores the pain like second nature as he hops out of bed to take the first steps he’s been given the benefit of taking in months. Since his successful attempt at sitting upright, he’s already decided that he’s a fully charged laptop and spaghetti is not his thing, as he’d much rather drown in the familiar wrap of his boyfriend’s arms than the hospital’s supply of tomato sauce (he’s still too sensitive to really think about blood, no matter how many times he’s had to see it).

His steps forward grow hesitant. As much as he’d love to curl into Sehyoon after all these months of longing for it, he… doesn’t know where Sehyoon’s stance is anymore.

Yuchan doesn’t really understand how anyone could still love him after all the pain and lying, much less lend him an ounce of forgiveness. The stillness of Sehyoon’s breathing brings a peace to the room that Yuchan doesn’t deserve.

As quietly as he can, he pulls a chair up to the bedside and waits. All his life he had been waiting, for the right moment to come out, to give himself to Sehyoon, to reach a stability where he could even marry him, but all with the wrong intentions, and he wills with all his might that he can pray the selfishness away.

He’d based everything on the fact that he wanted nothing else, but didn’t consider that he could’ve been asking for far too much. Sehyoon had given him not much less than his entire life and future, only for him to take advantage and limit their time together on a hope that thinned out into nothing but a pipe dream. If only all of his intentions had been layed out to Sehyoon, he wouldn’t fall down a foolish path. He’s over-eager, impatient, and underprepared. He waits because Sehyoon deserves every second, because Sehyoon didn’t hesitate to wait there for him.

Minutes turn into hours that feel like days, and as the light sleeper Sehyoon is, he stirs to the sound of Yuchan’s whispering, snapping the latter out of his trance.

Their eyes meet, and for the first time in his life Yuchan is genuinely worried about what Sehyoon might say. But he doesn’t say anything. The hairs on Yuchan’s neck stand like grass as Sehyoon’s arm stretches out to lead his fingers along the path of Yuchan’s stitches over his gown. Acting on his own instinct, Yuchan’s eyes follow his own hand to touch Sehyoon and trace over the same spot. The bumps he finds are tender and the message is clear. _A transplant._

Sehyoon tugs at Yuchan’s arm with all the strength he can muster, and Yuchan finally climbs in next to him to feel the closeness he’s waited for so dearly, and the closeness that he is now granted to give. He allows them to float into space once again, feeling everything and nothing existing around them as he hooks his ankles between blankets and numbed limbs.

Yuchan feels a thumb trace his dented ear as fingers tuck away his hair, overgrown from months of neglect. He breathes out softly like a release of all the guilt and fear and longing, all flowing out of his lungs feeling lighter than he’d ever expect. He’s not calm or tense or excited, he’s just present, watching closely, feeling intently.

Sehyoon’s other hand is in his, and its loose, but the mutuality of the gesture makes it as secure as a lock.

He melts into Sehyoon’s eyes, feeling all the tears released, prayers unspoken, and the endless moments of patience Sehyoon has given to fall back into place, right where he belongs. Yuchan returns the look, ready to give everything in return if only Sehyoon will let him.

“You’re crying,” is all Sehyoon says.

And even when their lips disconnect, their hands depart, or their bodies begin to forget the warmth of the other’s, Yuchan knows they’ll always find a way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe you can infer why young sehyoon ran into the orchard and hid under the wagon to draw rainbows.  
> and i'll take all accusations that i'm too lazy to do medical research because i'm not doing this for marks and it's inconvenient to my flow. i already write with little-to-no thought as it is, and made up most of the story as i went. i'm far from a perfectionist.  
> THAT SAID this was too long for me, so i hope you liked it. take a kidney


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally im so sorry but this is for clarity

Sehyoon plays with Yuchan’s fingers and swings his legs back and forth off the bedside. Behind him, Yuchan is as sprawled out as ever, eyes unblinking and head still, leaning against the phone as they await an answer in silence. He’s as patient as he _can_ be about a call he couldn’t bring himself to make for a year. He stares expectantly at the ceiling, like the hospital stars can prophecize the conversation’s outcome, and Sehyoon’s light contact is the only thing preventing Yuchan from falling into their endless skies. Even his breathing is hushed, like he’s hiding in a closet hoping to stay undiscovered, and he’s the most still he’s been in the conscious moments of his life.

Sehyoon had walked him through it. No matter the outcome, as long as he could stay in touch with who he is and be true to at least himself, he could get past it. He’s allowed to feel every emotion this puts him through, but he still hopes he won’t have to feel them all at once.

Like the snap of a rubber band, he perks upright at the sound of an old voice speaking his name. “Mom?”

Sehyoon watches as he chokes out a response. He didn’t know what to expect either. “Hi… yeah. I’m still at the hospital.”

Sehyoon assumes there’s silence on either end for awhile.

“Mmm? Yeah I’ve eaten… It was just hospital food… Huh? Just rice and like freezer chicken. Oh and some oranges…”

Yuchan’s mom seems as shy as he is.

“How long? We’re gonna be here a few more days… Just to play it safe…” He looks to Sehyoon, probably for mental reassurance. “Yeah… Yes, um… Sehyoon said you, you paid for everything… Thanks mom.” He feels so small as he listens to her say it, _You’re still my son_.

Of course she was worried about him. She could blame Sehyoon or whoever she wanted, but there would no point if he ended up dead.

“Yes mom… No I won’t miss my appointments anymore… Yeah, I promise.”

He starts to play with the hair on Sehyoon’s neck. “Mmm… Mhmm… High school is okay… Yeah I missed this term but I can take my time… Okay… Yeah, I had a job but- …no! I, I think they fired me anyway… I haven’t called yet… Yeah it was just weekends… Yeah, how are my brothers?” He leans his side into Sehyoon’s back and rests his head against Sehyoon’s neck.

“Oh, really? You want to visit? …Yeah, you can send food too, if you want… Kimchi is good. We’ll eat anything.” Sehyoon hears a smile accent his voice.

“Yeah, our apartment is really small… Yeah it’s literally a room plus a bathroom… No, no, we’re not home a lot… Yeah, you should get a hotel then.” Sehyoon is imagining the whole family trying to fit on their twin-sized mattress.

“Yeah… Oh, that’s okay, I can call you again… Yeah, we’re not really doing anything for a few days… Yes, tomorrow is okay… Okay… Mmm.” He hums out a long sigh. “Thanks mom… Bye. Love you, mom.”

Yuchan hangs up and the silence feels unwelcome. “Ahhhhh….” He stretches into the sky, then roughly pulls Sehyoon to lie on his lap. As clumsy as he is, Sehyoon somehow topples too far back and hurts himself in the process. “Ow, owow ow, Chan! I’m still recovering, like, badly.” It’s unfair; Sehyoon swore once that he could cut off Yuchan’s leg and it’d grow back like a lizard.

Yuchan giggles and apologizes to his porcelain doll, and Sehyoon draws it out with tickles. The younger reacts violently, falling over from the vengeful attack and trying to curl up in a failed defence. Soon enough, he's crying for mercy, and Sehyoon is halted by the unusual tears. His hands are grabbed from tickling any further, but he has no such intention.

“Ah! Please, please, oh my God.”

“Shhh, hey,” he’s soothing Yuchan less dramatically, with a smile. “You’re okay?”

Yuchan is crying for real, tears streaming out in large amounts and breaths all shaken up. He’s quiet and Sehyoon just waits, pulling him closer.

“I just,” he mutters, “I wish I was angry. I don’t think I should forgive her. Especially because of the money… God, the money!”

He’s still in pain for what she caused, and even if she’s making a move to accept, Yuchan didn’t deserve all the pain in the first place.

“I think that… Chan, I think forgiveness is the most important thing you can do for yourself. I think it doesn’t have to do with having her back, or reversing what happened.” Sehyoon was hurt by it all too, even if indirectly. “You can allow things to be different from now on. You deserve a difference.”

Yuchan is more important than fixed morals or apology money. He deserves genuine love that’s properly reciprocated, and everything in between is just for growth.

“You don’t have to accept everything, even when you know you would want it. Just take it in when you’re ready.”

“But she’s my mother”

“And she should be more grateful that you didn’t leave her for good. That you’re alive.”

Sehyoon hopes he is Yuchan’s family here.

“Okay.”

Yuchan loves his mother, but that will look different from now on. It’s not his responsibility to pick up all the pieces until he can’t take it anymore. He can start from a new mold, and Sehyoon will be there to help him through it.


End file.
